


The fires found a home in me

by 1000lux



Series: A Crown for a Beggar [6]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Guilt, M/M, Meereen, The Unsullied, season 5, the dragons - Freeform, the sons of the harpy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-14 20:04:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9200258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000lux/pseuds/1000lux
Summary: The troubles in Yunkai are contained again, if at a high price. Meanwhile people in Meereen aren't happy either. And for now it seems that Viserys is more scared by what happened in Yunkai than they are.At the same time three men are crossing the narrow sea to meet him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own rights to either story or characters from either the books or the TV show!
> 
> Well, I'm back with another part. I hope some of you guys are still reading this. I'm sorry that it always takes this long, but well nothing really to be done about it.
> 
> The title is, as the last one, from Yellow Flicker Beat by Lorde, a song I uniquely identify with Viserys.
> 
> By the way, I was informed that there was an error in my last work. Arianne is in fact Oberyn's niece not his sister.

****

I'm a princess cut from marble  
smoother than a storm  
And the scars that mark my body  
they're silver and gold  
My blood is a flood of Rubies, precious stones  
It keeps my veins hot  
The fires found a home in me

I got my fingers laced together  
And I made a little prison   
And I'm locking up everyone who ever laid a finger on me

(Yellow Flicker Beat - Lorde)

****

=More dead, yes?= Viserys doesn't look at Grey Worm.

=Yes.= Comes the terse answer.

Blood flows in the streets of Meereen. Each night more dead. Unsullied. Freedmen.

Do they think, not openly opposing him will save them from the fate of Yunkai? But the truth is he's not going to let anything like Yunkai ever happen again, if he can prevent it. He's scared of ever letting himself become again what he was at Yunkai.

=No more outings,= Viserys says. =Who doesn't need to be out stays in.=

=Can't do that.= Grey Worm returns. =It would weaken your position.= 

His dragons are locked away again after Yunkai. Just as he's locked himself away. Deeply rattled. No more bloodshed. No more people burned alive. At Yunkai he'd been out of control. Just like his dragons.

=They take mercy for weakness.= Grey Worm continues. =They won't see that you spared them but that you weren't strong enough to destroy them.= He's still walking with a crutch, despite not letting on any sign of weakness or pain. He had returned to his duties as if nothing had happened, the moment he was able to leave his bed. But given his life prior to their meeting, he probably wasn't that impressed by the torture of the nobles in Yunkai.

=You're not going out, Grey Worm. I won't take chances with you. That is an order.=

=As you command.= Grey Worm says, despite the look he gives Viserys clearly stating that he disagrees. 

****

He's caught between a rock and a hard place. Grey Worm was right, they take his mercy for weakness. But he won't use his dragons to destroy this city too. He remembers the burnt corpses of women and children all too well.   
His children are a great instrument of destruction. And they heed his call. But he can't in all honesty pretend that it's possible to direct their strikes. They're too big for that by now. It's not like the first taking of Yunkai.   
And what kind of leader is he if he can't control a city, other than by burning it to the ground?

****

Maybe a year ago, his pride would have been hurt. He would have been angry that his property had been touched, slave or not. Now, he feels shame. Shame that he couldn't protect men he promised protection. Even though he did no such thing, quite the opposite, he promised them war. But he didn't promise them to die in a side alley beside a brothel, stabbed to death by cowards. These men died because of him. They had trusted him and he had trusted them. He had trusted them with his life. And they him with theirs. And he has taken them.  
His pride has killed them. And the pride of the men Viserys had brought to their knees. He will bring them even lower. Let's find out who's pride will outlive the other.

He won't mindlessly rain destruction around himself as he did in Yunkai. But he'll get them. Every single one of them. And they will pay. Oh, they will pay dearly.

****

He visits his dragons. They're not in the catacombs this time. If he has to do this he doesn't want to keep them in a place that's far too cramped for them, where they can't even see the sky. So for now they're chained in the now unused stadium where the fights used to be. Chains long enough that they at least can fly in small circles, but not enough to get out of the stadium. It's little consolation for him that he's trying to make their captivity as comfortable as possible.  
They're not angry with him even. That makes it worse. They followed him there as trusting as ever and let him chain them. And now they just seem sad and confused. And it breaks his heart. It feels like this time he's punishing them not for what they did, but what he did. But the point is, he still has no idea how to keep them from killing random people. Especially after he ordered them to do just that at Yunkai.

He'd thought it would console him to see them, take his mind of the complete clusterfuck that his latest conquest turned into. But seeing them just makes him even sadder.

****

They walk past the line of men killed the other night, each of them covered by a white sheet.

Viserys smiles at Grey Worm pitifully. =Tell me of one in great misfortune.=

=Great misfortune? What did they take from you then? What did they take that was ever really yours? What did you not prevent that was ever in your control? Those men, my brothers, they died. Their mortal bodies were taken from them. So be it. Their minds were free. They were not bereft of anything that was ever theirs to begin with. We all have a place in life. Some of us grow crop, some of us are bakers, others are soldiers. My brothers were soldiers, just as I am. So we fight until we die. If they have lived free and true in their minds, there is nothing for them to regret. Nothing for us to fret over. They were only ours for a part of the way, none of us knows when our time will be.= Grey Worm puts his hand on Viserys' shoulder. =So look forward, my friend. And look at yourself. Look at your choices. Your love for my brothers honors you, but they wouldn't want your mind clouded by grief over them. Don't act out of anger, or out of hurt pride. Think about your next step. The wise knows which are the things we should value most. That the man who wrongs another, hurts what he should hold most dear. His soul. He loses modesty, temperance, honor. But those who only value the physical things in life,= Now, Grey Worm's eyes take a malicious glint. =like money. Those have a lot more to lose. For it was never theirs to begin with.=

****

"What are you planning to do?" Drogo asks.

"I have no fucking idea."

"I can just go out there with my men and we'll leave our own message for the Sons of the Harpy."

"If it were that fucking easy, me and the Second Sons would have already done that." Daario remarks.

"No," Viserys shakes his head, face drawn like he's experiencing a headache. Maybe he is, everything these days is just a smothering pain that seems to press down onto his brain like a clamp screwing tighter and tighter with every new consequence of his actions. Consequences he wouldn't have cared about not too long ago. With every new attachment, every new care he allows himself, there seem to pop up new consequences, new weaknesses he didn't take into account. And he becomes more vulnerable to his enemies. Every new restriction he puts on his actions, every new barrier in his mind that stops him from doing what needs to be done, makes him more prone to lines of attack he never saw coming. And he's left in the storm, brittle and bare. Whoever he's become now. It feels like part of who he was was lost on the way. And he's not sure if that's a good thing. Not caring was a power that no one ever appreciated on him, but he could need it dearly right now.

»You need to get rid of the foolish notion that you're invincible,« Drogo breaks his thoughts. »Let go and take the losses. You can't always win. I should know.« Drogo brushes a hand through his shorter hair. A quick smile. »It's important that you win in the end.«

»Did you now?« Viserys asks with a raised eyebrow.

»I'm still here.« Drogo replies.

"What the hell is he saying?" Daario asks, throwing Drogo a dark look.

"None of your business." Drogo smiles through his teeth.

"It was really of no concern to you." Viserys tells him gently, trying for once to be placative instead of as truculent as possible.

"Very mature indeed, Dothraki," Daario tuts. "If you had any balls, you'd have challenged me to a fight. But, right, you already lost."

Drogo gives something between a growl and a roar. Viserys jumps between the two of them.

"Oh no, no, no!" Given that he's the object of their supposed affection he hopes they won't just fling him away. "None of this!"

Daario grins at Drogo, right over Viserys' head. "I sure don't care what language Viserys is speaking, when he's screaming my name tonight."

"Okay, out. Both of you." Viserys feels the headache returning, as if it'd ever left. He gives the two a final word of warning. "If either of you tries to kill or maim the other, whatever's left of you will go straight to Yunkai. There you can get it out of your system and start looking for a new reason to fight just the same."

****

Daario, true to his word, just walks back into his room in the evening.

"Sorry about that." He smiles, sliding onto the bed behind Viserys.

Viserys lets him kiss his neck.

"You should be. That was incredibly juvenile."

Daario makes an assentive and vaguely contrite noise, wrapping his arms around Viserys' shoulders from behind. Viserys leans his head back, resting it against Daario's chest. Daario contently starts peppering little kisses on top of Viserys' head.

"Is it horribly selfish?" Viserys asks.

"Yes," Daario agrees. "but then again, everyone is here of his own free will."

****

Dany stares at him with that hard look of hers that she reserves for calling all of his bullshit. And he knows it's just not his day.

"Are we going to talk about it now, brother?" She challenges impatiently. "Do you fear my condemnation so much?"

"You have heard the story a thousand times by now, I'm sure."

"But I want to hear it from you." She demands. "You come back from Yunkai, with Grey Worm still alive, a woman that is more beast than person and hundreds of people needing shelter. And you won't speak a word on the matter. I heard Ser Jorah, you can imagine what he said. I heard Drogo. Now, I would like you to tell me what happened."

"I killed them all and I liked it. Are you happy now?"

"Is that why you walked these halls more like a ghost yourself, these past weeks? Because you liked it so much? I'm not scared of you, Viserys. I never was. I hated you at times. But I never feared you. I did what you told me to do because I couldn't imagine a different life. You're not even half as terrible as you think yourself to be."

****

=Look what I found at Yunkai.= Viserys leads Grey Worm to the catacombs under the palace where the woman is kept.

=Do you speak?= Grey Worm asks, facing her. She only stares at him, hostile. "Do you speak?" He repeats.

"No, I only growl." She replies, baring her teeth.

"He's the leader of my army," Viserys tells her. "The best fighter I've ever seen. Do you think you could take him on, beast-girl?" 

"I'd tear his throat out."

"Well, we'd better not try that out then." Viserys chuckles. He turns to Grey Worm who's watched the interaction impassively. "Think you could find use for her?"

"We'll see."

Viserys nods and sets about leaving, when he turns around once more. "Do you know who inhabited these walls before you?"

"No. I don't care either. Another cage, another animal." She remarks, watching the churned remains lying around with disdain.

"Neither a cage, nor an animal. It's a great honor to be kept here."

****

Drogo's been evading him.

"You knew what you were getting into." Viserys challenges.

"Did I?" Drogo asks.

"I'm not playing with either of you. I'm just doing what I feel is right for me."

"I can't lower myself in such a way." Drogo shakes his head, lips in a bitter curl. "Not after I've already lost to that man."

»Please.« Viserys stops pretending that he's in the stronger position here. »Please, for me.« Drogo and him are both in the habit of watching far closely on their pride not getting injured, a vanity he feels Daario is completely devoid of, at least where it concerns Viserys. But him and Drogo, they often enough settle on winning the battle even if it means losing the war.

»I'm not really sure how to deal with this if I wanted to.« Drogo finally says. »There's no Dothraki way to deal with this that wouldn't end with either me or Naharis dead. And having lost and having not lost that I don't know how to handle.« A pause. »I really didn't expect things to turn out this difficult when I married your sister.« A quick smile.

»Neither did I.« Viserys returns the smile.

»But there's also no Dothraki way in which I'd just give up.«

****

"Sister," Viserys starts. "I see a lot of things different now. Mostly that I'm the biggest hypocrite alive. But that shouldn't be news to you. I wouldn't object if you and Drogo wanted to–"

"You can do whatever you like." Dany stops him right there. "But I'm not you. And I'm not backtracking on my decision." Her harsh features soften. "I've said it before, nothing will change that till the sun rises in the west, sets in the east, the seas go dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves. We are a family. All of us."

"Well, then let's just hope none of that happens." Viserys replies, always the optimist.

Dany snorts, then pats him on the head. "And don't you worry about me, I'll find someone."

Viserys smiles. "I'm sure you will." Then he adds. "Well, I guess, we always were a weird family." 

"That much is true." Dany agrees.

****

"There's a letter with the seal of the Martells," Dany says.

"From Oberyn?" Viserys asks, immediately getting up from his chair.

"No, from Ellaria Sand."

He rips the letter from her, scanning over the words quickly. Then he does it again.

"Joffrey Baratheon is dead," he says tonelessly. "Tyrion Lannister was blamed for it and Oberyn offered to be his champion in a trial by combat. He won, but he was gravely injured. At the time she sent the letter he was still alive."

"Oh gods, I'm so–" she reaches out, but he evades her hand.

"I told him! I told him not to do anything stupid! But did he listen?! No, he didn't!"

"We have to hope for the best, Viserys. Maybe things will work out."

"Yes, of course they will!" Viserys hisses. "Because that's how our lifes go, things always work out."

****

He's lost one of his best friends and strongest allies. Sure, the house of Martell is still with him, but what does it count. Of course, it's all that counts, he reminds himself. He will go on. Losses are expected. It's sad that it had to be such a dumb, preventable loss, but what can it be helped. Viserys has lost people who were much closer to him than Oberyn. He can deal with this. He's not even going to entertain the foolish hope that Oberyn is going to survive. For all he knows he is already dead. Was already dead long before the letter arrived. A small voice whispers, you thought Grey Worm was dead too. But, yeah, sure, like he's going to have that much luck again.

****

"You heard?" Drogo asks, as they meet tersely, like blades could be drawn any second.

"I heard."

"Right now, the last he needs is getting further hurt by anything we might do." Drogo says. And he's done his fair share of hurting him in the past. 

"I agree." Daario replies equally curt.

"So..."

"So, we deal with each other."

"You think you can do that?" Drogo raises an eyebrow.

"You say you can't?" Daario challenges with a hint of a smirk.

They might want to see the other dead, they both agree on that. Neither has a problem with bloodshed and both grew up in surroundings where killing for love was the generally accepted practice. They're both violent men. They both deemed themselves the best of their trade. But they're not making the rules, especially not in love. And there's another thing they have in common. They care for the ones they love. Drogo knows the name he's made for himself among the other Khals. But the thing most didn't expect of him was that he'd be willing to sacrifice anything, his power, his life, even his pride for the ones he loves. He'd expected if it came to this, it'd be his life, maybe his power. But so it's his pride.

****

The woman grabs his hand on the streets. He can't begin to fanthom how she got even that close to him.

"Soon comes the pale mare, and after her the others. Kraken and dark flame, lion and griffin, the sun's son and the mummer's dragon."

She's gone before the first of his Kingsguard had a chance to grab her.

 

"What's that supposed to mean, anyway?" Viserys shrugs, slumping down on a cushioned seat. "I don't believe in prophecies."

"Yes, you do," Daenerys contradicts him. "Everything that you wanted to believe about yourself, everything you believed I would take from you, has all been a made-up mist of prophecies given to you by liars and madmen."

"The Pale Mare... That's a disease, yeah? Kraken is Greyjoy. Lion is Lannister." Viserys muses. "The sun's son... Sunspear possibly, could that mean Oberyn? But what on earth is the dark flame, the griffin and the mummer's dragon?"

"Enough prophecies, brother. Enough of that. The gods poured enough misfortune over us that it would last for a lifetime. We have nothing to ask of them and they have nothing to give. We make our own fate."

****

"A word, your grace." Jorah's face is tense, as always when he talks to him since Yunkai.

Viserys can't blame him. There's never been any love lost between them. And he certainly is right to be wary of him. These days Viserys is wary of himself.

"About what?"

"About your father, the mad king."

Viserys laughs. "The Mad King." He savors each syllable. "Go on."

"Your enemies weren't lying. When the people rose, he burned sons in front of their fathers. He burned people with Wildfire and laughed as they screamed."

"You seem to think this is news to me, Ser Mormont. I pride myself to have a quite good memory. I am well aware of the things my father did. I was there when it happened. Once he let me watch. Where were you, Ser Mormont?" He snorts. "All the stories about my father, I know all that." He meets Jorah's gaze, this time without amusement. "So, make your point, before I tire of this conversation."

"The Mad King gave the people the justice he thought they deserved. And each time it made him feel powerful and right. Until the very end."

"I am my father's son. Is that what you're trying to say?"

****

"Am I becoming like my father?"

Dany looks up from Rhaego with surprise on her face.

"Because of Yunkai?"

"Ser Jorah seems to think I am."

"I wouldn't know. I never knew our father. But from the tales I heard, I would say you're farther away from him than you ever were."

****

He starts training them. He can't keep them locked up forever. He could, but that's not a life and he won't do that to them. Mindless machines only let out to reign uncontrolled destruction for a limited time, incapable of anything but destruction. That's not what they are. They can learn. They will have to.

He flies across the country with them to watch them hunt.

****

"No! No! No!" Viserys yells at Vengeance, eyes on the burned human carcass. "You fucking beast! Go! Go! Get the fuck out of my sight!"

The dragon looks at him wide eyed, turns around confused, before she retreats whining, tail hanging to the floor, turning around to him again and again.

"Okay. Stop. Stop." He half runs after her. "I didn't mean it like that."

She turns back around tentatively, approaching him demurely.

"I still love you. I will always love you. But you are getting locked up again."

"This is not the way to train someone." Daario says. "Shaking his head."

"We agree on that." Drogo says. He has not really any word of wisdom to offer here either. Because the dragons still scare him, even if he'd never admit to that. While his son, who has practically shared a cradle with them, still acts around them like they are still no larger than lizards, he only sees a larger, stronger predator than himself when he looks at them.

 

"How am I supposed to explain to them that it's okay to kill some people but not others?!"

"I would say break them and make them obey your every command. But obviously that's not going to happen." Daario says. "At least try to be consistent in your signals. Coddling them isn't the way to go."

"Ah, shit how did the dragon riders do this in the old days?"

"I guess, take 'em when they're young. And they probably didn't overly care about the odd dead peasant."

"Westeros isn't like this godforsaken, fucked-up place, where you can still own slaves. We have laws. You can't just kill someone."

"You mean that place where people were burned at the king's fancy? Yeah, that sounds really progressive."

"You're being so incredibly helpful, I wouldn't know what to do without you. How about you train the dragons from now on?"

Daario laughs. "You'd regret it once they've eaten me."

****

"How'd they train you beast-girl?" Viserys asks.

She throws herself against her chains, playful, trying to make him jump. He doesn't. He knows exactly how far the chains go.

"They did not. All they did was lock us up and stay far enough away. Did it look like we were trained? We don't follow commands, only urges. We're mindless, didn't you know?"

"Would you eat a child?" Viserys asks.

"Of course." She smiles.

"Really?" He regards her contemplatively.

"Bring me one and find out." She shows her gleaming row of sharp teeth.

"Maybe I will."

 

"I brought you something else."

The guards drag the Yunkaii noble in and shove him towards her. With one jump she's on top of him. Blood and chunks of flesh hit Viserys as she devours the man, his screams of mercy turning to last gurgling sounds of a dying body.

"You like watching." She says, licking rivulets of blood off her fingers.

He acknowledges that only with a smile.

"What did he do to you?" She asks.

"He evaded taxes." Viserys replies with a shrug. 

In the background Grey Worm tuts, shaking his head in disapproval.

"Tell me what life is to you?" Viserys asks her, ignoring Grey Worm.

"What?"

"You asked me not to kill you. So tell me: What is life to you?"

"Killing and feeding, what else?" She shrugs, smirking.

"For that you could have stayed where you were. For that you could stay down here. Why all that resentment then?"

"True. You think you own me now. But you don't."

"Oh, I don't own you. You're my prisoner."

Viserys turns around and leaves. Grey Worm stays behind. Once Viserys has left, he walks closer to her, into the reaching distance of her chains and crouches down in front of her.

"That man," Grey Worm says, his eyes shortly drifting to the bloody remains. "whipped a former slave of his to death." Then he gets up again and leaves as well. All the time, the girl never moved.

****

Grey Worm walks in. "We arrested someone. We know he was part of it. But we can't prove it."

"A trial will come to nothing then." Viserys says. "It will only serve to humiliate me in front of the nobles."

"Why a trial?" Drogo asks. "Just let him vanish."

"He was publicly arrested," Dany says. "Now, he needs a public trial."

"She is right." Viserys sighs.

****

They arrive for the trial, him and Dany dressed in their best clothes, showing those nobles exactly how much better than them they are. The nobles dressed up just the same, sitting in closed rows, giving him withering stares, both aghast at him daring to arrest one of their own and gloating at the knowledge that he has nothing on them. The thousands of freedmen will be in for a dissappointment when they realise that there will be no justice for them today. It tastes stale on Viserys' tongue, the knowledge that he's unable to do what he wants to do, that he's going to let down these people.

Suddenly one of the guards leading in the accused, draws a dagger and stabs the man. Outraged screams from the nobles. The Unsullied circle the place, keeping everyone else out.

Viserys knows what he has to do now. As hard as it is.

"Seize him!" He orders.

The disbelief in the faces of the freedmen mirrors the way he's feeling at his own words.

"This man was awaiting his trial," he addresses the guard, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"Your hands were tied so I did it for you."

"You defied my orders. And you killed a man that was convicted of no crime. That is murder. And for that you will be punished."

He leaves before he has to listen for longer to the bewildered screams of the freedmen or has to look at the face of the man he's just condemned to death.

****

"He defied you."

Viserys makes a grunting noise and leans against Drogo.

"But am I offended enough to kill him?"

"What about your precious laws?" Drogo runs a hand through Viserys' hair. "Dany said–"

"I'm not overly concerned with what Dany says." Viserys makes another annoyed sound. "I won't have one of my own slaughtered for the life of one of my enemies. That man would have died either way. I would have found a way. I'm only fooling myself if I think I'd let him get away. But I can't have people think that my orders are optional." He shifts again, now lying on his back, before sitting up again, looking at Drogo angrily. "Is it not my right to grant mercy?"

Drogo smiles. "It is."

****

They all arrive for the execution of the guard. Thousands of freedmen. Lots of nobles in all their fancy garments and eyes of steel. Looking at him like he owes them something. Like they own him now. And all those freedmen who look so betrayed. It's interesting to be hated by so many again. So easy their love is lost.

"In my supreme wisdom I have decided to commute the sentence to lifetime imprisonment."

Outcries from the nobles and cheering from the freedmen. Then everything goes really fast and a ruckus breaks out among the people. His guards lead him and Dany away from the crowd.

"They're attacking the masters," Grey Worm informs him.

"Oh, let them." Viserys will gladly let them taste some violence after everything they've done to his city. Riots are nasty things, no one can really tell who did what afterwards, no way to make someone accountable for any of it.

****

"We would have had to show that we're not ruling by double standards, today." Dany says. "You know that. Today you've shown them that there is no law."

"For once I've found a people who doesn't hate me. I don't want them to hate me again. Is that so hard to understand?" What use, though, are a people to him who only love him as long as he does exactly what they want? "And I really didn't want to kill that man," he adds softly.

****

The Sons of the Harpy continue, expectedly, with renewed vigor after that day. And Viserys isn't any closer to stopping them.

****

"No one wants needless bloodshed." Hizdahr zo Loraq says, once more the speaker for the Meereenese nobles.

"When is bloodshed needless?" Viserys muses to the consternation of Loraq. "Who would shed it if it's not needed? Unless of course in those fighting pits of yours."

"Just give the families a little leeway."

"I will see what I can do. You should be my spokesman in these matters. You understand the rules and traditions of your city better than I could hope to." The next words Viserys utters are truly meant. "I want the killings to stop. I don't want anymore dead freedmen nor just one more of my Unsullied."

"I will try to talk to the other families." Loraq promises.

****

"Not all men can die in glory," Hizdahr tells him. "Those men in the fighting pits, they can never be kings, but their names will live on. It's the best chance they'll ever have."

Viserys laughter rings through the hall.

"Is this supposed to be a feeble attempt at making me believe that you care about the interest of those who fight in the pits?"

"Traditions are all that will hold this city, your city, together. Otherwise former masters and slaves have nothing in common."

"They will have something in common." Viserys says coldly. "They will both die the same upon defying my laws."

Something like defiance blinks in Hizdahr's eyes. "Well, we all saw that's not the case."

"Clemency is every sovereign's right."

"Some would call it bias."

"What would you call it, Hizdahr?" Viserys challenges.

"Kindness." Hizdahr replies, after only a moment hesitation.

Oh. This one is good. This one won't tread false. Won't fall to emotion. Viserys has to be careful with him.

 

"Did you really think he could keep his bloodlust in check?" Jorah asks Dany after the meeting. "Do you really believe something like Yunkai won't happen again? No matter his remorse afterwards. How many weeks have passed since Yunkai? And already he sounds just like before."

"I am tired, Jorah. I am tired of your premonitions of doom. Do you really believe I could have done a better job? Any of us?"

"I had hoped for the chance of seeing you do just that," he whispers.

"For the sake of both of us I will pretend you never said that."

****

"Did you know I once fought in these fighting pits?" Daario remarks casually, looking out of the window, Viserys' head on his chest.

"I have no intention of opening them." Viserys says, one hand slowly brushing up and down on Daario's bare stomach.

"That's exactly not the point I was trying to make. There, a man has a chance."

"You have a chance everywhere, if you take it."

"That's an awefully idealistic and romantic worldview."

"Well, I learned from the best."

****

"If I were to divorce Drogo, I could marry Hizdahr zo Loraq and maybe bring peace to Meereen."

"Who'd think you would be the one offering this to me one day," Viserys laughs, as they both stand on the balcony overseeing Meereen. "No, sweet sister, not that I'm suddenly opposed to the concept of political marriage, but not this time." He shakes his head. "Meereen will bleed for this. I will bleed them out. All those Meereenese nobles who deem themselves superior to me and think they can sneek around in the dark slaying my men, who think cowards who only come out in the dark will scare me."

"Slaying their nobles won't bring you peace." Dany warns, already imagining the bloodshed her brother could cause.

"Neither will them killing my men. They want the blood of my men? Blood shall flow in abundance if they so desire."

He thinks of all the innocents who ended up colleteral damage at Yunkai. No, he won't let that kind of uncontrolled carnage happen again. But blood shall flow all the same.

****

~We go home with an army, sweet sister. With Khal Drogo's army, that is how we go home. And if you must wed him and bed him for that, you will. I'd let his whole khalasar fuck you if need be, sweet sister, all forty thousand men, and their horses too if that was what it took to get my army.~  
He still remembers his words. Cruel, unnecessary cruel. And he meant them, every single one of them.   
He'd visited Pentos, Myr, Braavos, near all the Free Cities. The magisters and archons fed him wine and promises, but his soul had been starved to death. A man cannot sup from a beggar's bowl all his life and stay a man. He'd had his taste in Qarth, that was enough. He won't sacrifice one more thing. He is done with compromisses. He hasn't come to Meereen bowl in hand. Not to Meereen and not ever again.

 

"Sister, have you been asleep already?"

"No."

As he stands awkwardly in the room, she scoots to the side and makes room in her bed.

He lies down beside her and wraps his arms around her. They lie there as they did when they used to have nothing and she was all he had left to protect.

"You believe in me." He says. "And that weirds me out to no end." He pauses. "And makes me even more terrified to fail."

"Fail you will at one point. Maybe big, maybe small. Then we'll get up again and we'll go on. That's what I'm here for. When you fall I will reach out for you. Just as you will for me. One of us will always be standing."

"You would take a city with fire and blood?"

"I would free a city with fire and blood. I would protect my family with fire and blood. And I would punish injustice. With fire and blood."

****

"All houses of Meereenese nobles, whose loyality is in question will be guarded all day and night. I want to know who leaves and who enters at all times. If they go out, I want to know who they talk to. Who they see. Who they fuck. Where they buy their food. Everything! Take as many men as you need. You too, Daario."

"They won't take that calmly." Jorah warns. "It's an outragous insult to those families."

"I'd assume it would be more outragous if I nailed every head that isn't shaved to the city walls. That's option B."

****

"This is outragous! In all the history of Meereen never–" Hizdahr doesn't get further.

"Hizdahr, my friend," Viserys smiles at him. "I know how this must seem to you. But those fine citizens abiding the law have nothing to fear. All I am attempting to do here, is make the city save again. For all of us."

****

"If a golden mask is found in your house, you are guilty. If your enemy plants a golden mask in your house, you are guilty. If your child finds a golden mask in the streets and takes it home, you are guilty."

****

"We are not going to stop the wheel," Daenerys tells him. "We are going to break the wheel."

"You are your brother's sister, in truth." Jorah says.

"Viserys'?"

"Yes."

****

Viserys rushes into her room without greeting.

"Dany, we're heading out!" Already he's pulling her to the door, brimming with jovial tension.

They take the horses outside the city, riding until there's only open land. There he gets off and whistles. She's heard that sound often enough to know exactly what it means. Soon dark shadows are cast over them as the three dragons descend to the ground.

"You need to know how to ride them."

"A dragon has only one rider all his life. And you've already sat on all of them."

"It doesn't matter." He shakes his head. "You. Me. And Rhaego the third one once he's old enough." He beckons Justice closer. "We are one blood, all of us. Your son loves me, my children will love you."

Together with Daenerys he gets onto Justice's back. The dragon roars loudly, raring her head up. Viserys just growls back, his hold onto Daenerys secure. And then they're in the air.

****

Grey Worm is almost running, when he arrives in the throne room. =A ship with the Dornish colors has arrived!=

Viserys doesn't know whether to take his time to prolong the inevitable or to just get it over with.

When he arrives at the harbor, a litter is carried out by several men.

"What the hell happened to you?!" Viserys shouts.

"That's a lovely greeting. Exactly what a sick man needs to hear." Oberyn says, grinning, the one eye that isn't covered by an eyepatch glinting with mischief.

"You stupid, fucking bastard!" Is the next that comes out of Viserys' mouth. Then he moves forward and hugs Oberyn.

"Ow. Ow! Careful." 

They move back to the palace after the tearful hello, that didn't include any tears actually being shed.

"I come bearing gifts, by the way." Oberyn remarks, once things have settled down a bit. "The actual reason of my visit here. Not the highly acclaimed healthy air of Meereen. You know, the fresh smell of smoke and spilled blood. Meet my new friends."

Two shapes seperate out of the throng of Dornish soldiers.

"Well, well," Viserys circles the newcomers. "look what the cat dragged in." He stops in front of them. "I assume introductions on my side are unnecessary?"

"Indeed they are, your highness," Varys answers perfectly polite.

"I don't know you," He looks at Varys. "But I can guess who you are." He turns to Tyrion. He knows both of them, as a matter of fact, from drawings Oberyn's sent him over time. All of them. Tywin, Cersei, Joffrey, everyone who plays a role at King's Landing.

"These are Lord Varys and–" Oberyn starts.

"Let them speak for themselves."

"I am Tyrion Lannister."

"A spider and a Lannister. You come bearing gifts indeed." Even while he addresses Oberyn, his eyes are solely resting on the two men kneeling in front of him, watching for their every reaction. "What could have possibly brought you here to my court? Besides the ship of my dear friend here."

"You must be aware of the recent happenings at King's Landing." Tyrion states.

"If you mean Joffrey Baratheon's death, yes. But I thought you were exonerated at a price that was far too high for your value, for what it concerns me. Oberyn must have thought you of some value for me. What that could possibly be escapes me, though."

"I killed my father. So I had to leave after all, as you can imagine."

"What's it to me?"

"Playing hard to get is really not your game, Your Highness. You and me know exactly why I am here."

"Yes, of course, my dear friend gifted me a Lannister for me to kill. A small one that is, but well, we all have our shortcomings."

Tyrion laughs at that. "However angry you are about the injury of your friend, we both know he didn't do it for me."

They seize each other up with hard eyes. A bitter smirk twists Viserys' mouth.

"You come to my court because no one else will have you." He tells Tyrion and Varys. His dark expression tips within a moment to bright and jovial. "But you're in luck, I'm always looking for smart people to join my alliance." 

Viserys crouches, bringing himself on eye-level with Tyrion.

"You say you know who I am. But what do you know about me?" He asks, looking at the fugitive Lannister with curiosity, challenging him.

"I know that you spent your childhood in exile, impoverished, living on dreams and schemes, running from one city to the next, always fearful, never safe, friendless but for your sister and by all accounts half-mad," Tyrion eyes stay locked with Viserys' at all times. The challenge accepted. "...a brother who sold his sister's maidenhood to the Dothraki for the promise of an army. A pathetic, little creature. Desperate for some scraps of the big table, while deeming himself better than anybody else." Tyrion pauses only for a breath-length. "I know that somewhere upon the great grass sea, your dragons hatched, and so did you. I know you are proud. How not? What else was left to you but pride? I know you are strong. How not? The Dothraki despise weakness. If you'd been weak, that Khal would have killed you along the way before anyone would have even heard your name again. I know you are fierce. Astapor, Yunkai and Meereen are proof enough of that. You have survived assassins and conspiracies and fell sorceries, protected that family of yours, trod the cities of the slavers to dust and extincted most of their oldest families with one arrogant wave of your hand."

Viserys' chin rests on his hand, propped up on one bent knee, following Tyrion's words as children might a fairy tale read to them. An undecipherable smile stretches across his face.

"It is good to know that word indeed has travelled across the Narrow Sea." Viserys still smiles at the small man. "Now, what do you say? Did I scare you off? Would you prefer to keep on running?"

"I'm a Lannister," Tyrion smirks in response. "If there's something I know it's madness and blind ambition. If you'll have me, I'm your man."

"Excellent. Welcome to the winning side." He turns to Varys. "What about you, spider? It's about time you'd serve a king again, wouldn't you say so?"

"I'm yours to command." Varys answers, with a incline of his head.

"You did quite the outstanding job at King's Landing. You will do the same for me and keep me informed about the whereabouts of my beloved citizens." He turns to Tyrion without waiting for an reply. "And for what it concerns you, we will see what exactly it is you can do for me."

****

"Well, you gave in quickly." Oberyn says, as Viserys enters his room.

"I believe in your superior judgement," Viserys aswers, sitting down besides Oberyn. It's only half a joke, Viserys doesn't think Oberyn would bring anyone into his home whom he doesn't fully trust. But even without him, Viserys wouldn't have killed someone who might give him an advantage just because he has the wrong family name. "How are you?" he asks then. "For real?"

"Ah, well, like someone tried to wrench the godsbedamned shit out of me. But you should see the other one." He smirks.

"That was unbelievably stupid."

"I don't think you're in the position to point fingers, giving that you have basically civil war outside your door." Oberyn says with a grin. "But I'm really glad that you finally found a way to deal with your men."

"Yeah, well, I guess so."

"Hey, sharing is caring."

Viserys rolls his eyes. "Seriously, why do I even listen to you?"

"Because I give life-changing advice and both my life-experience and relationship-experience surpasses yours by far."

"Too right. So, then spill some words of wisdom concerning the clusterfuck on my streets."

"All things considered, I think you're actually doing a fine job. This couldn't have gone down without some bloodshed. Change never does. And you're also in the disadvantage, unlike me, you can't just turn a blind eye to their actions."

****

Tyrion invites him to his room for a cup of vine, which Viserys finds a little brash considering that both the room and the vine are his. He goes anyway.

"Now, here we sit. Two terrible children of two terrible fathers."

"I'm terrible?" Viserys asks. "That's probably the sweetest anyone's ever called me. So, I'm terrible. You travelled all across the Narrow Sea to meet someone terrible? I'd reckon there are nicer places to whore or drink yourself to death. Bravoos is supposed to be nice this time of the year."

"I was in a bit of a hurry to leave and your friend's ship was the only one where I could still get a passage. And just to make this clear, I didn't mean that as an insult. Neither for you nor for me. There's always the right kind of terrible."

"Which would that be?"

"The kind that prevents your people from being even more so."

"I am," Viserys says with dawning realisation. "I never planned to be, but I am."

****

"I just ran into your cranky paramour and she told me you were leaving. Which of course must be a mistake on her side." Viserys says indignantly and slightly menacingly.

"Oh, my friend," Oberyn smiles slightly. "I'm only passing through. I'm on my way to Volantis, to see a specialist about my eye."

Viserys deflates, saying nothing for a moment. Then, "I understand."

"Don't look so dejected." Oberyn's smile turns fond. "Once you're done here, come to Dorne. My niece is impatiently waiting to finally meet you."

"Oh, I doubt that."

"To be perfectly honest, she doesn't know about it yet. We're trying to keep it as low-key as possible, lest she should have an unfortunate accident because word has spread till King's Landing. Because, you can trust me about that, they fear you in the Red Keep. As much as they want to convince themselves that Essos is far away and one of the barbarians will kill you at one point. They are scared. And that is both good and bad. Because the people are also scared. And while that might be a good thing, we don't want them scared enough that they are willing to fight against you. Sadly enough it doesn't matter how many cities you freed, how many slaves you have lifted out of their chains. When they hear the tales of you, all they remember is your father, all they see is their cities burning. They don't know you, they just know there's this crazy boy across the sea who's pretty much unstoppable so far."

"Well, I can't help that, can I?"

"Maybe not now, I think before they've actually seen you, they'll hold onto the image they've already formed of you inside their heads."

****

"I asume you made yourself at home by now. So, what do you say to the state of my beautiful city?"

"You've made quite a mess, haven't you?" Tyrion offers bluntly.

"Well, you're endearing, aren't you?" Viserys snorts.

"I'm not here to flatter you."

"So, what's your idea to fix this?"

"Nothing as of yet, I'll have to watch it a little longer for that." Tyrion says. "You know, politics and killing aren't always the same."

"I only seem to have talent for the latter." Viserys replies.

"You will learn. You will have to inspire devotion, if you ever want to rule across the Narrow Sea."

"When we all know, I'm so very good at that."

"I think you did a quite good job so far. You seem to have no problem inspiring devotion in a few people." Tyrion has watched him, around the Dothraki leader and the mercenary, who worship the ground he walks on. Around the Unsullied who follow him with love and pride. It's more than he can say anyone in his family has ever managed. Margaery, maybe. But, then, she isn't blood-related. Thank the gods.

****

It started out as any regular day, sunny, dry. They're in the middle of the marketplace when suddenly there's only pushing and shoving and the glinting of steel. And Viserys and Dany are getting pushed away by their guards and Viserys has lost sight of Daario and Drogo, but there's no time to wait for them as the Unsullied are trying to get them to safety.

Drogo realises quickly that those aren't the regular nobles. Those are mercenaries. How the fuck they managed to get inside the city walls unnoticed is anyone's guess, though. He feels the impact of a club on his arm, as he's busy fending of two other guys. That's when he slips on whatever's covering the marketplace ground, be it blood or trampled fruit. He cuts his next opponents foot clean off where he's standing, even as he's still sprawled on the floor. Then the next attack hits him straight on the head. Or more precisely the entire arm hits him on the head. Cleaved clean through, sword still in hand. The rest of the man goes down beside him moments later. 

Daario pulls Drogo to his feet. "I will protect you. If that's what he needs."

****

"We obviously have a problem," Viserys states impatiently.

"So it would seem, your highness." Varys replies.

"I am very, very displeased."

"You can't end slavery in one day," Tyrion says. "These men need time to adjust, to settle for different ways to make money."

"I am king. I make the law. And I will not compromiss with men like these."

****

As such things go, of course Viserys gets hit by his words in the face the next day.

"They set the fleet on fire."

Tyrion has the good sense, at least, to keep his trap shut. Viserys turns to Varys next, his rage only very superficially contained.

"I want names, Varys. Give me names."

"Loraq, Zhak, Pahl, Quazzar, Uhlez, Ghazeen, Hazkar, Dhazzak, Yherizan and Merreq."

"That's nearly every single old family in Meereen!" Daenerys exclaims with a gasp.

"Well, then it seems it is time for new families in Meereen!" Viserys says, the level of his voice rising to that of a yell.

Again there's of course no hard evidence that could be used in court that those families are behind the Sons of the Harpy.

****

"You can't just kill all of them." Tyrion reasons. "Now that you know the enemy you can work with them. Offer them a way out. With both sides saving face. You can have peace without another droplet of blood being spilled."

Viserys smiles humorlessly. "There's something you need to know about me if this is supposed to work." He tells Tyrion. "I don't conform to rules. I don't have to. I don't know about the kings you have known, if you could even call them that. But I am a whole other kind."

Tyrion smiles, hands folded in his lap. "Because you're going to burn the world down? There were many of you before, believe me that. The first thing you need to see is that you are not special. You are a king. There were thousands before you, there will be thousands after you. You are powerful, but neither eternal nor indefeatable. And you want nothing that no one's ever wanted before you."

"Maybe so. Maybe so. But who has actually achieved those things? Who who wasn't of my line?"

"Let's not get into a fight over whose house is better."

"It's not my house that is better, it is me. Some call it mania, some call it daring. I do what others wouldn't even think about."

Tyrion holds his gaze but doesn't say anything more.

"And I will surprise you," Viserys adds then. "Let me know when I did."

****

The next day Unsullieds show up at every single house of those families, collecting a child from each of them, as cupbearers for the king. Except the Loraq family. They are left be.

"Not, Loraq?" Tyrion asks, surprised. "Varys identified the house as belonging to the rebellion against you."

"If you have a snake in your bed," Viserys smiles. "make the snake comfortable. Lay it in silken linings. Give it a hot stone to snuggle up against. So the snake doesn't realize it's not lying in your bed, your lying in it's."

"You know, I once told a man that you sound like an utter fool. I think I have to change my mind."

"So has the rest of the world." Viserys retorts, clicking his glass to Tyrion's.

 

The representatives of each family show up the same day for an audience.

"I don't get what you are all so agitated about. It's a great honor I've bestowed on those children." He smiles broadly at the furious men. "But who am I kidding? These children are my hostages in case one of you turns against me. That's what you all think, right?"

Again agitated murmurs errupt.

"Wrong!" Viserys' voice cuts through the noise. 

Meanwhile even more Unsullied have poured into the room, surrounding the assembly in front of the throne.

"I have collected these children, so you would come here today. Because you're vain and deem yourself untouchable. Because you think your names protect you. But names protect no one," Viserys shakes his head regretfully. "Why would I keep children, when I can have you?"

It takes the men a few moments to realise the full extent of his words, before shouting errupts again.

"Put them in chains!" Viserys voice sounds over the general tumultus.

The Unsullied follow his command immediately.

"Keep the children here," Viserys orders. "Maybe then, one day we will have sane people ruling over Meereen."

****

"I'm feeling like it's always going to be like this. I douse the fire in one city and it breaks out in another. And I just keep repeating and repeating the same action of frightening people into submission. Again and again. And I'll never leave here. I'll never get to Westeros."

"I remember once you enjoyed it," Drogo remarks. "But, then, there's a difference between taking a city and keeping it. It's the same everywhere, be it the Dothraki or here. You will only be accepted as a leader as long as everyone else is sure they'd lose in a fight against you, and you can't control an infinitely large territory. I guess it depends on how much you care about the cities here. You say they're just your stepstone to Westeros, but you're not acting like they are."

"We could already be in Westeros if I'd taken their offer back in Yunkai." Viserys reminisces glumly.

"Like you'd have ever backed-down from a challenge." Drogo smirks at him.

"Am I still the man you met in the Dothraki desert?"

"You're not even the same man you were in Qarth." Drogo laughs. "But, yes, in a way you still are. So, it's a good thing you're fireproof."

Viserys' face turns glum on that notice.

"It's alright," Drogo continues, smile fond. "It doesn't matter, since I love you. And I can't for the life of me seem to recall why it bothered me so much to begin with."

"Sweet talk? That's what you give me upon a serious question?" Viserys asks, one eyebrow raised.

Drogo regards him for a long moment. Then he puts his cup down, slowly advancing on him. He stops inches before him. One of his hands comes up into Viserys' hair. He leans forward, his other arm resting against the wall over Viserys' head, regarding him with a certain complacent self-assuredness that makes Viserys want to evade his gaze and put him in his place.

»My moon and stars.« Drogo says calmly and straightforward.

Viserys lowers his gaze then, putting both palms against the wall.

"Want me to leave?" Drogo asks and Viserys knows that now he's just taking the piss.

»Asshole.« Viserys reaches straight for everything of him he can reach. »You're not going anywhere until I say you can. I want you to fuck me on every available surface in this room. How about that?«

****

After a few days of refusing all audiences, he calls Hizdahr zo Loraq to the palace.

"My dear friend, I am greatly pained that it has come this far." Viserys greets the man.

"Your Highness," Hizdahr starts speaking immediately, after prostrating himself in front of Viserys. "the other families are distraught over the recent happenings. This escalation was surely nothing either of us wanted. And while I'm sure you had valid reasons for your arrests, there was certainly miscommunication on both sides."

"Certainly." Viserys is not sure though, where the miscommunication in setting on fire his fleet was.

"Our single wish is to see those families reunited and to redeem the love and trust of our rightful king."

"I feel the very same, Hizdahr. Never doubt that. The breaking up of families is a horrible thing and I'm saddened that I've been pushed this far. Seeing that, as you said, they see the error of their ways, I want to take the first step towards reconciliation. What was it you mentioned to me the other day, Hizdahr?" Viserys asks conversationally. "That it would appease your people if I brought the games back? I've given it some thought and I agree. I'll reopen the fighting pits, since they are part of the long-standing Meereenese tradition. And even better, I'll let all the imprisoned nobles attend."

Hizdahr takes a deep breath.

"Your highness, you are most kind and understanding. I am so very glad that we could reach a peaceful solution. There was never any need for all that bloodshed. If you just give in to them on these few points, they will settle down and accept you. Letting the heads of the families go free is the first step to peace in this beautiful city. Your city."

****

"I'm opening the arenas," Viserys tells Daario.

"I wanna fight there. At the opening."

"Certainly not."

"Do you really think any of the fighters this city has could meassure up to me?"

"Then why do you want to fight?"

"Nostalgia."

"No."

"Yes."

Viserys looks at him in disbelief.

"I'm asking this of you." Daario says.

****

The arena is full to bursting. Freedmen beside representatives of the old families. At first the beasts are lead into the arena. Then several of the old champions follow, among them Daario Naharis. 

The first round of fighting goes without any trouble. Viserys clapps politely at all the rather inappropriate places, always vaguely worried about Daario. For no good reason as it turns out. The bastard has even the nerve to blow him a kiss mid-fight.

"Well, this was entertaining," Viserys turns to Hizdahr who's seated beside him with a smile. "We should have done this a lot earlier. But now, let's get to the main fight of tonight."

The current champions are led out of the arena with thundering applause. Then the lion-woman enters the arena. Surprised and excited gasp wash over the rows of spectators. Then the new fighters are presented to the audience.

Viserys hears Hizdahr hiss beside him, his hands clawing into the armrests of his chair. 

"You see, Hizdahr, I thought, I'd do you one better. You want games. I'll give you games." Viserys turns around to the man frozen with rage and disbelief. "And you will give me the peace I desire. Or you will join your unfortunate friends down there. Meereen isn't my destination. Neither is any of the other cities. I'm set for Westeros. And I can't have mutiny behind me, once I leave. If I have even the fleeting doubt that my cities might turn against me, once I leave. I will burn them down. I'll leave nothing but burned earth. I'll leave behind the ashes of families so old, that dragons hadn't even stirred in Valyria."

"What about the Freedmen? You wouldn't kill them."

"I wouldn't like to, sure. But, if I had to," Viserys shrugs, laconically. "anything could happen. You know what happened at Yunkai. Maybe you'd like to travel there and see it for yourself. Or maybe, I'll just kill everyone other than the Freedmen. Found some more of those 'free cities'. The people in Braavos would like it."

"You are insane."

"So they say." Viserys assents. Then he turns to Hizdahr, grabbing his chin, to pull him closer. "I am death. I am fire. I am the cold breath on your neck in the dark. I am forever and forever more. You can't kill me. And don't you forget it."

 

Tyrion is clapping when they get back inside.

"You know how I enjoy a glass of wine and a good show."

****

"You could have told me that," Daario says.

"I could have, I didn't." Viserys leans forward, putting his hands on the armrests of Daario's chair. "But otherwise I've been a good boy and did everything you asked me for." He tilts his head, smiling coquettishly at Daario.

Daario smiles. "You know, I've known mercenaries and thiefs who were better at being good than you are."

Viserys considers and dismisses that notion with a shrug. "Something about the fact that you brought me cut-off heads to our first date tells me you didn't have any misconceptions about that to begin with."

"Sweet of you to remember. Actually, I prefer them nice. But I seem to have a soft spot for you."

"Want me to lick it?"

"Be my guest." Daario answers, opening his legs.

Viserys throws him a smirk, before he gracefully sinks to the floor.

****

"See, I can follow orders." Maneater tells him when he visits her again.

"Well, if 'Just kill all of them' can be considered an order."

"Is that what I'll be doing from now on?"

"Oh, no, the fighting pits are closed again. You'll be joining my army. But, do you really want to go by 'Maneater'."

"Looks to me like I'd be quite a home with that name there."

****

Grey Worm comes to him first thing in the morning. Viserys can already tell from the look on his face.

"No killings?" Viserys asks.

"No killings last night." Grey Worm confirms.

****

Tyrion looks at Viserys thoughtfully.

"There's more to the world than the Iron Throne."

"And I've seen my fair share of it." Viserys makes a gesture to the window leading outside. "This is not my home. My home is Westeros. My home. My legacy. My birthright."

"Now you start to sound the way people talk about you. How many lifes have you changed for the better here? Maybe this is were you belong, where you can do the most good. When you get back to Westeros, who will support you? The house of Targaryen is gone."

Viserys interrupts him there. "It will rise again."

"All remaining Targaryens are your sister and her infant son. The other houses will never support you. The Starks are gone. The remaining members of the Lannisters will never back you up. Not ever. Stannis Baratheon won't back you either. His entire claim on the throne rests on the illegitimacy of yours."

Viserys snorts. "Stannis has no claim to the throne. Does a kitchen wench have a claim, just because she donnes her mistress' gowns?"

"Let's say he doesn't have a claim, so he's just another lord who won't support you. That leaves the Tyrells."

"You forget Dorne." Viserys points out.

"Never," Tyrion placates with a broad smile. "Of course, Dorne alone will be enough to secure the Seven Kingdoms."

"Once before Dorne was the only house to be allied with ours," Viserys reminds him sternly. "I will have the other houses the same way my ancestors did. With fire and blood."

"You can take them like that, you can't keep them like that."

"You haven't known me for very long. I didn't need my dragons to take Qarth, I didn't need them to take Astapor, not for Meereen either. Of all the families fighting for the Iron Throne right now, wouldn't you say I'm the most well equipped? I have dragons, yes. But I have also Dothraki and Unsullied. And it's a long way to Westeros, we'll see what else I'll have by the time we arrive."

****

Viserys puts Rhaego on his lap.

"I'll tell you a story. Once upon a time there was a little boy and people told him he could be anything when he grew up. And he said he wanted to be dragon. And they told him that all of the dragons were dead. It turned out people are often wrong about a lot of things. Over the years the boy met a lot of people like that. When they told him he could be what he wanted to be, they meant he could be what they wanted him to be. And they all were wrong about the little boy. And they were wrong about the dragons. The dragons weren't dead. And the little boy could as a matter of fact be whatever he wanted to be."

****

"He will act against me," Viserys says. "They all will. Maybe not openly. But I bet with you he's already plotting to do away with me. He's too smart and too ambitious for anything else. I need to find a solution for Hizdahr."

****

He calls Hizdahr zo Loraq for an audience yet again.

"I've decided to give you my sister's hand in marriage."

"Well... the honor is... I'm beyond words."

"It's only what you deserve after everything you did for this city. I want our families to become one. Once I leave for Westeros, my sister will stay here to rule Meereen and my other cities and you will be at her side."

"But isn't your sister still married?"

"That marriage has been officially dissolved."

"Then I will gladly accept."

 

Viserys leans down to Tyrion. "And now I've surprised you." Then he walks past him.

****

The ceremony is as beautiful and pompous as his sister deserves. Definitely a whole different level compared to her first wedding. Of course he's the center of attention, sitting in the middle at the banquet, with Loraq on one side of him and Dany on the other.

The first course are honeyed locusts. Viserys doesn't particular like savory food served sweet, furthermore he considers locusts as something that should only be eaten when in danger of starvation. He really wishes they could have picked something else, but if it's a traditional dish, what can he do? Viserys takes a bite of the locust, chewing pensively. Then he turns to his side towards Hizdahr and gives him a passionate kiss. The other is so caught by surprise he doesn't react at first. And then Viserys' hands have already closed around his jaw like vices, keeping him from spitting out the locust Viserys had seemed to have eaten only moments before.  
Viserys spits what has remained in his mouth on the floor, regarding Hizdahr as he goes green and begins to choke.

"You think you can poison me, Hizdahr?" Viserys asks, loud enough for the nobles around them to hear. "I am immortal!" Viserys screams then, turning around, letting go of Hizdahr's convulsing form. He leans down on the balustrade, now addressing the masses come for the spectacle. "You can't burn me! You can't poison me!" Viserys is smiling now, knowing he doesn't look quite sane. "I am Vengeance! I am Justice! I am Tenacity! And I bring you fire! It will burn away all the dirt and the ugliness inside your rows and it will burn until I have cleansed this city!" 

Then Viserys turns around and leaves his seat returning to the complex adjecent to the arena, where rooms were set up for him. The doors have only just closed behind him, when Drogo already lifts him of the floor, rushing down the hallway to one of the rooms. Viserys is convulsing by the time they get there. His doctors are already awaiting him. Drogo sets him down on the bed, while Viserys starts to throw up violently.

Dany sits down beside him, pulling his hair back, one hand rubbing his shoulders, while Missandei holds a bowl for him.

Drogo only watches him with a scowl, pacing in front of the bed.

"What do you want?" Viserys jokes, lying on his side, occasional seizures still shaking his body, cold sweat covering him from head to toe. "A wedding without a view deaths is considered a dull affair."

Drogo curses silently.

"That was quite a performance," Daario states darkly, not having liked the plan to begin with.

"I think I made quite an impression."

"Yeah, but you're not immortal." Daario retorts. "The risk–"

"There was no risk," Viserys interrupts him. "Varys knew exactly what kind of poison they were going to give me, including time, place and perpetrator. He even knew what dish they would put it into." Viserys laughs.

"Why couldn't you have just arrested him without that megalomanic display of superiority?"

"Why?" Drogo who's been standing there, broodingly silent, interrupts him. "Don't you think, either of us has asked this before?! Why would he go for anything but the extreme? When he can further paint the picture he'd like to believe himself to be. More dragon than man. A fucking god."

"It has lessened the risk of anyone trying to poison me again," Viserys retorts petulantly. "What is it with you two anyway? Have you suddenly struck an alliance of savages?"

"Hey," Daario pipes up. "compared to him, I'm high-class. At least I only live in a tent when I'm on campaign."

"Remind me, Naharis." Drogo interrupts him. "What exactly was it you did for a living? Oh, right, being on campaign."

****

Viserys looks at the current head of the remaining old families of Meereen. 

"Make no mistake. I'm bound for Westeros and I can't have enemies in my back. So, if there's even the slightest wiff of a rumor of people planning an upraisal in any of my cities, then I will take it as proof, that the Freedmen aren't capable of defending their freedom and have therefore become a liability. I will then burn those cities down to the ground with every soul those walls contain."

****

"I'd pledge you my sword," Tyrion says. "But I don't own one."

"Neither do I." Viserys replies. "But, men like us don't need swords, do we?"

****

"What next?" Daario asks, as they overlook the city from the balcony of Viserys' room. For once the marketplace is quiet, well as quiet as marketplaces can be. One month and no more sign of the Sons of the Harpy. No attacks during patrols. No more dead Unsullied. It looks like they finally broke the backs of the noble families. 

Viserys reaches for his hand. "Do you think we can leave here?"

Daario throws another look at the streets, then nods. "Yes. Yes, I think we can. And let's be honest, if these people don't learn to defend their own freedom, there's no hope for them. You can't be everywhere at the same time."

Viserys nods in agreement, the hand in Daario's clenching for a moment. "I guess so."

"So, where do we go. New Ghis? Maybe a trip to Mantarys? Or straight for Westeros?"

"Bravoos." Viserys answers, a grin parting his lips, showing his gleaming white teeth, as he happily gazes at the sky over the city where his dragons are circling.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comment, it would mean a lot to me. ;)


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